


Gone with the Wendigo

by Bella_Monoxide



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Hunting, M/M, Mentions of supernatural creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9619928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Monoxide/pseuds/Bella_Monoxide
Summary: Daryl Dixon is spending his weekend hunting for game - but what he finds in the woods is more than he was asking for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pharmtechgirl71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pharmtechgirl71/gifts), [KrissyG927](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrissyG927/gifts).



> It's been a while since I posted anything. Thanks go out to dementedqueen for the title, and believe me, what she came up with is way more sophisticated than what I had thought of!  
> I dedicate this work to my girls Krissy and pharmtechgirl because they have told me early on when I started to watch SPN that they are both, as they called it, Sammy-girls!  
> Smut happens in the second chapter, the story got to long - again. Oneshots. Yeah. Famous last words.

When Daryl walked out of the gas station, he had one eye still spying on the hot guy who had been paying for an insane amount of gas right before it had been Daryl's turn to pay. He sighed internally before he turned around and walked over to his bike, when a deep voice called out to him. "Hey dude, nice bike!"

Turning once more, Daryl got a good look at the driver of the vehicle hot guy was just about to fold his tall frame into the passenger seat of.

Typical, he thought – of course a guy like that 's already got an equally hot boyfriend.

A moment later, Daryl's eyes popped; and suddenly, the high price for gas made perfect sense.

"Whoa," he blurted, almost against his will, "that an Impala?!"

"Yep," the guy answered, one arm casually leaning on the ledge of the open window, looking proud. "That's my Baby. You working on that bike yourself? Looks custom."

"Mh," Daryl replied, still somewhat stunned. "Yeah, Imma mechanic at the local garage. Bike belonged to my brother once."

"Baby was dad's. Anyway," the guy gave back, "we gotta move. See ya!" He waved, turned the oldtimer around and drove off.

Shaking his head, Daryl went on his way, thinking that it was rather unlikely that he would see those guys again, as he had noticed their licence plate, which told him that they were not from Georgia.

But he found that he could not rid himself of the image of the two guys for the rest of the day. Since it was Friday, he had finished work a little early, because he was going on a hunt on Saturday morning. Originally, he and his older brother Merle had planned to go together, but Merle had called him earlier to cancel. Apparently, one of his kids had caught a bug in preschool, and said bug was now busy working its way through the entire family.

Daryl laughed, once again realising how much his brother had changed; thankfully for the better. But even though Daryl himself had turned out to be a loving uncle, he did not feel the desire to start his own family. Besides, he thought with an audible scoff that resounded throughout his small, but reasonably well-kept house, who in their right mind would give a kid to queers?

Sure, the laws had changed, but this was still Georgia, the south of the US, with all its lingering prejudices. It had taken quite some time for Daryl to come out to his brother, and even longer for Merle to finally make his peace with the fact of having a gay brother.

Thinking back to his short conversation with the macho-type boyfriend behind the wheel of the Impala, Daryl laughed, as he remembered how much work he had spent on that bike after Merle gave it to him. It had taken him almost as long as it had taken Merle to come to terms with his little brother's sexuality.

Getting rid of the runes from Nazi-Germany on the tank had been a particular pain, but Daryl could not stand to ride a bike that bore symbols like those, so it had to be done. At the end of the day he was just glad that Merle's wife was such a good influence on his brother, who had at least altered his former views quite a bit.

That night, Daryl went to bed with thoughts of the broad shouldered man he had spied on in the shop of the gas station, and he fell asleep imagining how it would feel like to run his hands through his longish, chestnut-coloured hair.

* * *

He woke back up in the early hours of Saturday morning, and he got out of bed to get started on his hunting trip. Hours later, Daryl had successfully followed a deer trail and was closing in on the herd, when he heard footsteps in the underbrush somewhere to his left.

Cursing under his breath, he hoped against hope that the noise had not scared his game away, which would nullify hours of skilful hunting on his part. He moved on, his thoughts briefly drifting to the old mine in the part of the woods the noise had come from. Local legend had it that the land was haunted, and both Dixon brothers, despite their unwillingness to believe in such tales, stayed clear of said region, solely based on the ole 'better safe than sorry' standby.

Nothing had happened for years, but recently a man had gone missing from those parts of the woods. Daryl had talked to Merle about it, and the Dixon brothers agreed with each other in assuming that the missing guy was just one of those city boys and wannabe hunters. They decided that the most likely scenario was that he had had an accident and simply had not been found yet.

Daryl shook the thoughts from his mind as he followed the deer trail for a while longer, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw blood on a nearby tree. Thinking at first that it was either old or that some other hunter might have been faster than him, Daryl stepped closer.

He had just verified that the blood was fresh and the marks on the tree looked like nothing he had ever seen during his entire life, when a rustling noise in the trees put him on high alert. He ducked around the tree, his trusted crossbow at the ready, a knife within reach, and cast a watchful eye around to scan the immediate area for danger. But even though he was such a skilled hunter, Daryl was almost too late in his release of the trigger when he saw a creature running at him with a speed that was not humanely possible. Thankfully, years of practice kicked in as Daryl shot the creature right in the chest, slowing it down considerably. Then, purely on instinct, he jumped forward to embed his hunting knife into the creature's skull.

A moment later, the weirdest thing yet happened. Daryl had only a second to move, after a deep voice cried "Out of the way!"; again acting on instinct alone, he ducked to the side, throwing himself flat on the ground, when a person burst from the trees and set the creature on fire.

Once the fire had died down and the creature's screeching had stopped, Daryl got up to reload his bow and he had it pointing at the torcher's head before the guy had done more than snapping his lighter shut, the gas container he held in his other hand hanging loosely at this side.

"What the fuck man?" Daryl groused, his rough voice low and laced with warning. "You trying to get me killed or what?"

Unceremoniously, the guy let his things fall to the ground and raised his hands up slowly. When he turned his head, a pair of hazel eyes met Daryl's ice-blue stare, and the hunter's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Wait a second – you the guy I saw at the gas station yesterday!" He blurted.

A moment passed as they stared at each other, before understanding dawned on the guy's features. He nodded. "Yeah, you're the biker dude my brother talked to, right?"

Daryl stepped back, pointed his bow downwards and demanded "Care to explain what the hell just happened?!" He nodded at the remains of the creature on the ground. "You could start with what that was."

The guy sighed audibly. "Ok, I guess you deserve that much. But I can tell you right now that you won't believe me anyway."

"How about you let me be the judge of that, huh?" Daryl answered, as he leaned against a tree, his crossbow on the ground and back on safety. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

He had only meant to make himself more intimidating by the posture, but it appeared that the guy was not blind to the beauties of the male body, as his eyes widened for a second at the display of Daryl's equally impressive physique, before he hastily looked away again in an attempt to cover up his show of interest. Filing that bit of information away for later, Daryl made a sound of impatience, prompting the guy to explain already.

"Um, see – me and my brother, we're hunters."

Daryl snorted. "Some hunter you are, scaring my game away, stomping through the woods like that."

"Alright, alright," the guy admitted, rolling his eyes, "but I was only trying to lure the wendigo – that would be the creature I just torched – out, so I could kill it."

Unimpressed, Daryl squeezed his eyes half-closed in suspicion. "Sure. How would that have worked out without my shooting it first?"

"Look, man," the other hunter sighed exasperatedly, "I'm grateful for what you did, but this is not my first hunt, alright? I would've gotten it eventually."

Daryl shook his head, an amused expression dawning on his face. "You keep telling yourself that, if it makes you sleep better at night. Where is that – wait." Daryl was stumped as his brain had finally caught up with a piece of information that had been mentioned for the second time around already. "Did you say brother?!"

"Yeah, Dean is my brother. What did you think?" He asked right back, bewildered.

Blushing, Daryl looked down. "I thought you're partners," he whispered almost inaudibly, but he looked back up when he heard a long suffering sigh from the other guy.

"I just don't know why people mistake us for a couple all the time," he said almost to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Daryl snorted. "Let's think... might be 'cause he comes off as rather butch, and you're so pretty, what with your longish, fluffy hair an' all?" He grinned momentarily, then it dawned on him that he had just given his thoughts away. His first instinct would have been flight, but he decided to wait for the guys reaction. After all, he reasoned with himself, it was unlikely they would ever run into each other again. Besides, even if the guy was a homophobe, there was still the fact that they were in the woods alone, and Daryl was armed.

When the other man did not react by lashing out or anything similarly drastic, Daryl asked him for his name, giving his own as well.

"So, Sam, where is that brother of yours?" Daryl tried again. "Shouldn't he be having your back on a hunt like this one?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, and he would've – if it weren't for the fact that he got caught during the night and was unconsciously hanging around in the wendigo's lair, you know, the old mine?" After a confirming snort from Daryl, he continued "Anyways, I went there and rescued him, then chased after the wendigo – and you were there for the showdown yourself, so." He shrugged, hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground.

Scoffing for what felt like the tenth time by then, Daryl shook his head. But before he could make any snide remarks, Sam rolled his eyes and stated that their line of hunting was just like that most times.

That got Daryl's interest, since up until then he had not even thought about what else might be out there. He suggested to walk Sam back to the mine, since there was no point for him to continue his hunt by then anyway, and they gathered their things, then walked side by side, talking.

Eventually, Daryl concluded "So what, you and your brother basically hunt all things that go bump in the night?" When Sam nodded, Daryl thought some more before he blurted "You ever seen a chupacabra?"

Sam laughed, and Daryl could not help but admire the way it changed his features, hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. "How come that's the thing coming to your mind first when you find monsters are real?" Sam asked, still smiling, but when Daryl was about to answer, he noticed some tracks and he motioned for Sam to keep still.

"Damn, just some older tracks," he murmured after closer inspection, and he started walking towards the mine again. He turned around to look for Sam when he realised that the other hunter was not at his side any longer. "What's the holdup, Sam?" He asked, sounding bewildered.

Sam, who had watched in awe as Daryl checked out the tracks, hurried to catch up then. When they were walking again, he murmured under his breath "You're quite a sight when you are in hunting mode..."

Casting a disbelieving look sideways, Daryl shook his head. "Yeah right," he added, rolling his eyes, but Sam made him stop with a hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"I mean it, Daryl. You move like, like – I dunno, but it sure is a sight to behold." Sam held Daryl's gaze for a moment to try and get the message across. Eventually, he got nervous again, since Daryl's look felt so intense to him, and he broke eye contact, pushing his hair behind his ear.

Grinning, Daryl started walking again, and Sam fell in step with him. Daryl took up their former topic. "I saw a chupacabra in the woods years back, and my brother 's been making fun of me since then, sayin' that I had too many 'shrooms," he scoffed, still angry at Merle for not believing him. "Would be great to finally prove him wrong, you know?" He looked at Sam, who chuckled.

"Well," Sam started, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "our dad killed one ages ago. Other hunters told us some stories as well, so I guess there are chupacabras around, even if I've never seen one myself."

When Daryl pounded the air, Sam could not keep his laughter in any longer, and after a moment of embarrassment, Daryl shrugged and chimed right in. "Glad you could clear that up, man," he said, lightly punching Sam's shoulder again. A short while later, they reached the mine, and Daryl offered to help Sam with his brother.

They found Dean sitting outside the building, leaning against a wall, looking anxious and a bit roughed up. When Daryl and Sam came into view, he pushed himself up from the ground, his face turned into a grimace somewhere between smiling and painful. "Sammy," he called out, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes!"

Daryl heard Sam scoff next to himself, and he turned his head around just in time to catch the biggest eyeroll he had ever seen. Shaking his head over the brotherly exchange that seemed very familiar to him, Daryl asked "So where did you park that awsome car of yours, huh?"

"Right," Dean said, "You're that biker dude!"

Sam, in the process of helping his brother, introduced Daryl and explained briefly how they met in the woods. Daryl, never one for fussing around, unceremoniously went to Dean's other side to help him, as it appeared Sam's brother had difficulties walking.

Some minutes and bits and pieces of smalltalk later, they reached the Impala, where the brothers offered to drive Daryl back to town, and he accepted, smiling to himself over the bickering between the brothers who tried to figure out which one of them should drive. Eventually though, Dean admitted that it might be better if Sam drove, and he threw the keys to him.

A moment later, Daryl found himself riding shotgun, after Sam had told Dean that he deserved it for saving Sam's hide in the woods. They talked some more during the short drive into town, but Daryl spent most of the time admiring the car and paid Dean a few compliments after it turned out that the older one of the two brothers kept the car in such good condition.

After he had asked him for directions, Sam drove Daryl home, and both brothers thanked him again for helping them out. Daryl felt regretful when he got out of the car to help Dean into the passenger seat he had just vacated himself – but not just for leaving the classic muscle car behind.

Standing in front of a suddenly bashful Sam made him realise that he was not the only one. Encouraged, he went in for a hug instead of just a clap on the shoulder or some such rather awkward show of male friendship. Sam instantly went with the programme and hugged him back just as tight, mumbling thanks into Daryl's shoulder.

They both took half a step back from each other, only loosening their arms somewhat, looking into each other's eyes for a long minute before Sam murmured "I don't think we'll leave town just yet..."

Daryl, smiling at the hope-, and still somewhat bashful look on Sam's face, was about to answer, when Sam continued. "You know, what with Dean being injured and all that." He stepped back from Daryl, letting go in the process.

But Daryl felt confident for once. He got out one of his business cards from the garage, thankful for the first time that he had gotten those as a gift from his boss, and scribbled his phone number on the back, handing it to Sam with a wink. "Just in case," he explained, "you might not want to hang out at one of the local bars alone. You know, if Dean feels to tired to tag along..?" Daryl even wiggled his eyebrows very briefly, and Sam hurriedly covered up a laugh with a cough when Dean's head popped up at the window on the driver's side of the Impala, an impatient expression on his face.

"Can you two ladies hurry up already? Because, as you both have oh so correctly noted, I am injured and would like to lie down for a while now." He shook his head and mumbled under his breath while pushing himself back "You're both so smooth, man, you could give me a run for my money."

That did cause Sam to laugh out loud, and Daryl quirked an eyebrow questioningly at him. Catching his breath, Sam wheezed "Joke's on him, man – Dean is anything but smooth when it comes to picking up potential partners..!"

"Hey," Dean shouted indignantly, "I heard that!"

Needless to say, both Sam and Daryl burst out laughing again, and they parted on good terms, with Daryl feeling confident to see Sam again later on.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Daryl take their acquaintance to the next level.

The evening went on, but in a different way from what Daryl had expected. First, he got a text from Merle, asking about his hunt and Daryl had a hard time formulating an answer that did the events of his weird day justice. Consequently, Merle's reaction was a short, not-taking-any-of-your-nonsense call, at the end of which Daryl headed out to meet Merle at their favorite local diner, to try and convince him in person.

Which, as he found, was just not possible.

The older Dixon brother laughed his ass off, claiming that it was the cleverest story Daryl had come up with yet. Whiping away pretend tears of laughter, Merle wheezed "And all that just because I don't believe your chupacabra story!" Thumping Daryl's back just this side of painful, he continued. "Little brother, you're a character, you know."

Daryl took a swig of his beer, tired and angry, his gaze fixed on the entrance of the diner to avoid looking at his brother for a minute, when a certain tall hunter entered. He watched as Sam made his way over to the counter, ordering take-out food, while Merle continued talking – only this time with his voice tampered down.

"So, that guy you met in the woods." Here, Merle winked rather purposefully, elbowing Daryl into the ribs before he continued. "I mean, you did meet on purpose, right? After you saw each other at the gas station?" Daryl shook his head and rolled his eyes, but his brother was not about to stop just yet. "Did you get a lil' sumthin' sumthin', huh?" Merle wiggled his eyebrows, while Daryl sighed exasperatedly.

Daryl, thankful for the fact that the older Dixon only had one beer so far, or else the teasing he had to endure would have been even worse, caught Sam's eye, nodding at him in greeting. The younger man walked over to their table. "Hey Daryl, is this your brother?" He asked. Daryl nodded, and Sam stuck his hand out for Merle to shake. "Cool to meet you, Daryl told me about you when we met today on our respective hunts. I'm Sam, Sam Winchester."

"Like the rifle?" Merle asked, looking baffled. "For real?"

Sam chuckled as he sat down at their table. "As unusual as it is for my brother and me to give our own names due to our line of work, yes, that one actually is my real name."

Merle shook his head, but admitted that his name was Merle, even though he still came off as a little hostile. Apparently though, Sam did not seem to mind that much, and he even answered all of Merle's questions as he wasted no time in starting to grill Sam on the events Daryl had told him about. Sam's whole demanor during their talk seemed to cause Merle to think his earlier statements over.

"So," he concluded after a few minutes, still looking somewhat disbelieving, "you and your brother, you're really hunting, what, monsters?"

"When Sam nodded, casually shooting Daryl a look, Merle laughed humorlessly. "So you're actually telling me that, I dunno, vampires are real?!" Merle's voice dropped to a whisper at the end, making sure that no other patrons could hear him stating what he though of as a ridiculous theory.

Sam, momentarily distracted as the waitress called over, telling him that his food was ready, looked back at the older Dixon as he got up to grab his dinner and head back out. "Look, I know it might be hard to believe, but yeah, that's what we do," Sam answered, offhandedly tacking on some useful advice for good measure. "Speaking of those, stakes don't do any good, neither do crosses or any other bullshit you might've heard of." Merle stared, speechless, his mouth hanging open, when Sam continued. "Oh, they don't neccessarily sleep during the day, either. Only thing killing them is chopping their heads off – and you might want to be quick about it, too." He paused, visibly thinking, before he added another piece of information. "We always use machetes for those. Anyways, from what I hear, you and your brother could do well in the same business."

Sam and Daryl exchanged a string of looks, some of which more heavy with meaning than others that merely indicated what they thought about Merle's reaction, as the older Dixon brother was momentarily occupied with yet another laughing fit. When he had managed to get a grip on himself again, he shook his head. "You sure are something else, kid, I give you that. But it sounds to me as if your way of live is not exactly compatible with raising a family."

A look of sadness passed over Sam's handsome features as he nodded. "You're not wrong," he admitted. "Hey, does that mean you..?"

"Yeah," Merle confirmed proudly, "gotta wife and two kids."

Daryl grinned, and, after exchanging goodbyes, Sam took his leave.

Merle could not stop himself from making another innuendo after the younger Winchester had left, but Daryl only smiled at him because Merle had missed the wink Sam had sent Daryl's way before he left.

The Dixons left the diner soon afterwards, and Daryl checked his phone before he went on home – only to find a text from Sam, asking if he could drop by later.

After shooting Sam a quick text back, telling him to come around anytime, he drove home in a good mood. Once there, he checked his bedside table for the neccessities, then went on to look into the fridge as well, making sure he had cold beer to offer.

He walked around his house, picking it up as he went along, but soon decided on having a quick shower instead before Sam arrived. Afterwards, he dressed in some nicer clothes and plunked down on his sofa with a cold one.

Next thing he knew, Daryl had nodded off, the events of the day finally catching up with him, and he woke with a start when the doorbell rang, feeling disoriented.

He stumbled towards the door, opening it to what appeared to be a likewise freshly showered Sam, grinning at him a little sheepishly. "Hey there, stranger," he mumbled, and Daryl laughed, pulling the tall man inside his home.

As soon as he had closed the door though, he had Sam pinned against it, his own lips meeting Sam's in a heated kiss.

Sam had one hand tangled in the choppy dishwater-coloured hair at the back of Daryl's head, while he held on to his bicep with the other. Moaning, Daryl kissed him one more time before he pulled slightly away. Sam chased his lips, kissing Daryl again just because he could. Daryl nibbled and kissed his way along Sam's sharp jaw up to his ear and murmured "I could just ravish you right here..."

It was obvious that he had wanted to add something else, but Sam cut him off. "Fine by me," he groaned back, before he started in on the juncture between Daryl's neck and shoulder, which caused Daryl to groan out loud. He held on to Sam's broad frame, his hand resting on one of his shoulders, his body pressed up as close to Sam's as possible. Daryl felt both their arousals between their bodies and suddenly, he felt like it was way too hot. Not a guy to beat around the bush as a rule, Daryl took action and grabbed the hem of Sam's shirt, giving it a firm tug. Looking at him, Sam quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

"Loose all this?" Daryl managed to pose the question in a way that sounded more like a demand, as he indicated the mass of Sam's clothing. Grinning, Sam shrugged out of his jacket and was in the middle of pulling his plaid shirt off as well when Daryl asked him a question.

"I dunno why you're wearing all that shit to begin with," he chuckled, "I mean, you do realise that this is Georgia, right?"

Sam looked a tad sheepish as he gave his impressive shoulders a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to it," he answered, pulling the long sleeved plaid shirt all the way off. As soon as it hit the floor, Daryl had gotten a hold on the last piece of clothing that hid Sam's marvelous physique from him and tore the t-shirt off, throwing it aside carelessly as he leaned in to worship Sam's chest.

Sam leaned back against the door, his head hitting the wood with an audible thump. His eyes were closed, and a low sigh escaped his lips. As Daryl went down on Sam's nipples, the hunter's sighs grew into moans, and he whispered little encouragements into Daryl's ear, one of his hands moving on from the back of Daryl's head over his shoulders, down his back, until he could push it into his pants.

When Daryl felt Sam squeezing his butt, his head popped back up and he kissed him hard while he scratched over Sam's nipples, before he let his hand slide down lower as well. Sam's breath hitched in anticipation, and he deepened the kiss even more, moaning into Daryl's mouth as he opened Sam's belt with deft fingers.

Once those jeans were open, Daryl did not waste any time but used both his hands to push them down. He briefly touched Sam's tight butt which was wrapped in a pair of snug fitting shorts, before those went down the same way, leaving Sam almost naked, leaning against Daryl's door, panting and flushed with arousal.

Daryl, in the process of grabbing Sam's throbbing erection, had a moment of insecurity. "Sam?"

The other man opened his eyes to look at Daryl. "Yeah?" When he saw the look on Daryl's face, he smiled at him and wrapped Daryl up in his strong arms, hugging him tightly.

"Like I said, fine by me," he whispered into his ear, then added "but if you've changed your mind..."

Sam laughed when Daryl shook his head vehemently. "Well go ahead then," Sam winked. "If there's somethin' you like, grab it and give it a try."

Now it was Daryl's turn to moan deeply. They kissed again, and Sam could feel Daryl's hand moving over his body down towards his straining erection. Sam's arms tightened around Daryl as soon as he had his hand wrapped around Sam's cock and began to jerk it, using a special twist on the head every now and then, which pulled an extra loud moan from Sam that Daryl found way too arousing.

As Sam's groans grew more desperate, Daryl could feel the other hunter's hands fumbling around with his jeans, trying to open them, and Daryl moved away a bit to give him more room, all the while his hand stayed firmly wrapped around Sam's glorious cock. Daryl grinned when Sam had finally managed to free his own hard member and groaned out in surprise. "Woah, Daryl! Going commando..?"

Sam blushed when he saw Daryl's mischivious grin, but was able to add "I like it."

That was the last coherent thing either of them managed to say, since the heat between them rose even more when Sam started to work on Daryl's cock as well. Soon both men were panting, kissing each other frantically, and Daryl got too impatient after a minute or two of mutual jerking. He knocked Sam's hand aside, grabbed both erections and set up a pace that left them almost breathless.

Sam, already on the verge of coming, groaned loudly, his head leaning against the door yet again, as his expression scrunched up in pure bliss while his cock started spurting hot cum between them. Daryl jerked him through it, kissing every reachable part of Sam's hot, sweaty skin as he moaned along, enthralled by the look on Sam's face.

They kissed again, long and hard, as Daryl continued to work on his own erection. Next thing he knew, Sam had dropped to his knees, opening his plump lips to wrap them around Daryl's cock. Daryl had to brace both arms against the door to keep standing when Sam started to give him one of the best blow jobs he ever had. It took all of his remaining willpower to refrain from jerking his hips forward and fuck Sam's mouth.

When Sam felt Daryl's orgasm approaching, he pulled away long enough to whisper Daryl's name with a raspy voice, and as soon as their eyes met, he continued to blow Daryl, concentrating on the leaking head of his cock, making sure to keep eyecontact. Not only did he want to see Daryl fall apart from his actions, but he planned on giving him his best puppy-dog-eyes while he did it.

Even though Daryl would never admit it, that was what pushed him over the edge, and he came hard, one hand tangled in Sam's beautiful hair. He sank down to the floor afterwards, unable to keep standing any longer, and they hugged each other for a long minute, breathing hard.

Looking up, Daryl lifted Sam's chin with two fingers and whispered a question to him. "Wanna stay the night?"

Sam nodded before Daryl's expression could get even more insecure, and he hugged him tight as he murmured into his ear. "You're cute when you are being all shy, you know that?"

Daryl scoffed under his breath, but a smile tugged at his lips when Sam ducked his head in order to kiss him again.

Eventually, both guys gathered up the scattered clothes, and Sam got rid of his shoes and jeans, pulling his shorts back up. Daryl went to get a pair of sweats for him, and they sat down on the sofa together. After some surfing, they found a show they both liked, and settled into each other comfortably.

Sam had just taken a long swig of his beer and put the bottle back on the table, when Daryl suddenly sat bold upright, his eyes glued to the tv-screen. His eyebrows arching up, Sam looked at Daryl, waiting for him to explain his reaction.

"I just realised – is there a thing as zombies?!" Daryl asked, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I mean, did you ever..?" His eyes bore into Sam's, and the hunter of the supernatural could not help but laugh.

"I'm sorry, Daryl, it's just funny..." Sam tried to to reign his amusement back in. He pulled Daryl back against his broad chest, leaned back against the sofa and, after placing a kiss on Daryl's forehead, started to explain. He told him about the cases he and Dean had solved that had involved some kind of zombie phenomenon or other. Daryl was particularly fascinated with Sam's description of the Croatoan virus and its consequences, but in the end, he had only one question.

"So the show 's got it right, then? Shot to the head will kill 'em?"

Sam nodded. "Far as we know, yeah."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Sam could practically see Daryl thinking before the mechanic spoke again. "Remember what you told Merle, about killing vampires? Won't that work on zombies as well?"

Sam thought about it. "I don't know. If I had to guess, I'd say it should work, but in our business, the guideline that's best is usually 'better safe than sorry', you know?"

Daryl nodded in understanding, and that was that. They went to bed soon afterwards, both being too tired and not willing to risk falling asleep on the couch.

There was another moment of awkward silence between them, what with them not being a couple but mere aquaintences that had only agreed on sharing one night of pleasure with each other, but it was over quickly when Daryl resolutely pulled Sam down between the sheets with himself.

They kissed each other before Sam turned his head back, being the little spoon, and Daryl smiled into Sam's hair as he whispered "Goodnight, Sam."

He barely heard Sam's reply, already drifting off to sleep.

* * *

When Daryl woke up, it was still almost dark in his bedroom. Cursing himself inwardly for always waking up at the ass crack of dawn, he quickly realised that ass crack appeared to be a cue here, as he felt his morning wood resting rather comfortably against Sam's lovely model of a butt. He had begun to rub his dick against it before he was even entirely awake, and now he tightened his grip around Sam, murmuring into his ear. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"If you are about to add 'rise and shine' to that, zip it." Came the grumpy retord in Sam's voice, still drenched in sleepiness.

Daryl smiled. "Lemme guess – Dean teased you with that enough to..."

"...last me a lifetime, yeah." Sam finished his sentence before he carefully turned around to face Daryl. They kissed slowly, and Sam's hands automatically went to caress Daryl's arms. "Hm," he mumbled between lazy kisses, "love your body, Daryl."

"That so?" Daryl teased, as he pulled Sam impossibly closer, bringing their morning-wood-turned-erections to line up with each other, while his hand slid along Sam's back towards his ass. He gave both cheeks a good squeeze, before his fingertips slipped into the cleft to tease at Sam's hole, pulling a low moan from Sam in the process.

Daryl was just about to whisper a question into Sam's ear when the other hunter spread his legs apart to allow Daryl better access, while at the same time rolling himself almost on top of Daryl. They both moaned loudly, and Sam began to thrust his hips forward, as Daryl continued to tease his entrance.

Few minutes later, it was Sam who whispered a question against Daryl's lips, and the answer prompted him to lift his upper body somewhat to enable himself to reach the bedside table and, after some more or less blind groping around, pull the lube out. Then he did something that surprised Daryl. Sam opened the bottle and squeezed some of the liquid on his own fingers, then began to tease his hole, much to Daryl's delight.

"Oh gawd," the hunter moaned, watching Sam's blissed out expression, "you're just beautiful like this, you know that?" Before Sam could even answer, Daryl cautiously moved them around so that Sam was lying on his back while Daryl knelt between his legs. Sam, catching on quickly to what Daryl was trying to do, had moved his arm around, and was now two fingers deep inside his own entrance.

Daryl watched with rapt attention, as he gave his own cock a few harsh strokes, then he dove for the bedside table himself to get a condom out which he threw onto the sheets, before he went to brace both arms next to Sam's head. He leaned down and kissed him passionately for a long minute, both men moaning into each other's mouths.

Finally, Daryl pulled away and started to nip and kiss along Sam's sharp jaw, down his throat and on to his broad chest. When he started to tease Sam's nipples, he sneaked his right hand down to wrap it around Sam's leaking cock, and he began to stroke it at a torturously slow pace that had Sam practically begging for more.

Grinning like a cat that had gotten a treat Daryl leaned his head down towards Sam's dick, wrapped his lips around the head and began to suck in time with his strokes. His other hand was moving over Sam's chest, feeling him up to his heart's content, while Sam was still opening himself up for Daryl, moaning and pushing his hips up off the bed.

Sam groaned. "Daryl, need you," he whispered under his breath.

Daryl looked up at him. "Need me how, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, who managed to cough out a small laugh.

"Stop teasing and fuck me already, will ya?" Sam said, and Daryl laughed out loud.

"A'ight," he answered while already fumbling with the condom wrapper, "if you insist."

"You bet your sweet ass I insist," Sam groused in a playful manner, and Daryl shook his head.

"Nope, Sam. It's your sweet ass I'm gonna 'bat' in a moment," Daryl spun the pun around, winking, then moved on to line his wrapped cock up with Sam's waiting hole. Carefully, he pushed the tip of his dick inside, while keeping a loose hold on Sam's hips. Sinking in further, Daryl made sure to keep an eye out for any discomfort Sam might display, but he only saw longing in the other hunter's eyes.

Bottoming out, Daryl placed his hands right and left of Sam's head and leaned down to kiss him. "Let me know..?" He whispered between kisses, and Sam nodded in understanding.

"You can move, Daryl," he whispered right back, panting, "I want you so much, please, move..."

That was all the confirmation Daryl needed before he began to fuck Sam at a steady pace, and soon they were both panting, kissing and touching each other, until their urge became too much. They began to meet each other in shortening intervals, moaning breathlessly. At some point, Daryl, leaning heavily on his left arm much to Sam's delight, began to stroke Sam in time with his thrusts.

A couple of strokes later, Sam cried out. "Daryl, I, I'm gonna..." Hot spurts of cum landed between them, and Daryl bowed down to kiss Sam again, stroking him through his orgasm, never ceasing his thrusts into Sam's hot hole. Sam pulled him into a fiery kiss when Daryl felt his own balls draw up, and he came with a cry against Sam's lips, crashing down on him in a sweaty mess of tangled, boneless limbs.

Exchanging lazy kisses, they lay for a while longer, and when their sweat began to cool down, Daryl dragged the sheets back to cover them both. They promptly fell back asleep, though for Daryl, it was more like a short nap, at the end of which he decided to get up and shower.

Afterwards, he rummaged around in his kitchen, preparing breakfast, when he felt two strong arms being wrapped around his middle, and a still husky voice mumbled a greeting into his ear. "Mornin'," Sam murmured, and Daryl chuckled.

"Morning yourself, sunshine. Done with your beauty sleep?" Turning around in Sam's embrace, Daryl hugged him right back, nuzzling the spot where his neck met the shoulder.

"Yeah yeah," Sam gave back, mildly disgruntled. "Um, you mind if I hop into the shower before I leave?" He asked, sounding a tad hesitant.

Daryl kissed him before he answered. "Sure, go right ahead. There should be some more towels in the cupboard for ya." He cast a questioningly look at Sam before he continued. "Wanna have breakfast with me after?"

Smiling, Sam nodded, then headed for the bathroom, while Daryl finished his breakfast preparations.

He was leaning against the counter in his kitchen with a cup of coffee when he heard a noise outside that sounded a lot like Merle's truck. Sure enough, moments later, his older brother knocked, then let himself inside with his spare key. "Daryl, where are ya?" He called, and after Daryl's answer, Merle walked into the kitchen. "Morning, lil' brother."

"Merle. Did ya need to get away from nursing your family back to health for a while?" Daryl asked, handing Merle a mug full of steaming coffee.

"How did ya guess?" Merle took a tentative sip, then sighed. "Mh, that's a darn good coffee."

They stood around for a minute, talking and drinking coffee, when they heard the bathroom door open and close, shortly followed by the sound of bare feet padding down the hallway. When Sam walked back into the kitchen, he was met by two very different looks – smug from Daryl, mortified from Merle, who had spewed his last gulp of coffee right back out in surprise.

Daryl, still looking way too self-complacent for Merle's liking, gestured between the two men and said "Sam, you remember my brother? Merle, this is the hunter..."

"Yeah yeah, you smartass, I think I can remember a guy I just met yesterday, thanks," Merle groused, putting his mug into the sink. Turning around to face Sam again, he continued. "Good to see you, Sam, though I won't lie – I'd rather not know who my brother takes home. At least not..."

"When you're suddenly faced with them, I get it, believe me. You should see my brother on that occasion..." Sam replied, smiling, and Merle nodded.

"Well," Merle stated, "I'll be on my way again then." He stole a piece of bacon out of the frying pan, waved at Sam, and was out the door before anyone had time to even blink.

Daryl burst out laughing as soon as he heard Merle's truck being started outside, and Sam joined in only a beat later. They sat down to eat the hearty breakfast Daryl had prepared, and talked about anything and everything.

When Sam mentioned that he had walked his way to Daryl's home, he was promptly being offered a lift back to the motel. On the way there, they did not talk a lot, but Daryl asked if they would be in town any longer. Sam looked doubtful.

His take on things was confirmed when they rolled into the parking lot of the motel, finding Dean already sitting in his beloved car, waiting. They talked briefly, then Sam and Daryl hugged each other goodbye, and the Winchester brothers were on their way shortly afterwards, leaving Daryl behind with a lot to think about – and some really good memories.

* * *

Roughly a year and a half later, Merle and Daryl Dixon sat in their favorite diner once again, when the owner turned up the volume of the tv so they could hear the news more clearly. Apparently, there were strange deaths happening all over the States, and the government was unable to keep it under wraps any longer.

Nobody knew anything specific, but soon rumors started to spread about a virus gone wild amongst the population. And of course, there was your usual amount of conspiracy theories to consider.

But even though Merle and Daryl did not set much store by all that, they had a brief talk about what the best course of action would be if push came to shove.

The day when Daryl had to drive his feverish co-worker to the hospital, bearing what looked suspiciously like a bite wound and talking incoherently under his breath about supposedly undead people attacking and eating his family, was the day when Daryl gave Sam Winchester a call.

Shortly after that, the mobile phone lines went into overload, or else it was the mobile phone network that went out of service. Either way, the ensuing chaos made the overall situation ten times worse.

Meanwhile, Daryl, his own truck packed to the brim with weapons, ammunition and camping gear, a printout on the passenger seat*, parked in front of his brother's home. He hopped out of the truck to give Merle a hand with packing up his own vehicle. Minutes later, both Merle's children and his wife had joined them and the whole Dixon clan was on its way to try and make it across states, in a world that was seemingly going to shit.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merle Dixon's wife was the first among them to behead an undead person – in the parking lot of a grocery store, where they had stopped for gas and some additional supplies.
> 
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> *Distance Atlanta/Georgia – Lebanon/Kansas: a little over a thousand miles by car; 15 hours


End file.
